Vignettes
by September's Nobara
Summary: Little vignettes of life together for Vash, Wolfwood, and co. Vash/Wolfwood, established relationship, Predominantly AU.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Vignettes

Part: 1/?

Author: September's Nobara

Fandom: Trigun

Characters: Vash, Wolfwood, KuroNeko-Sama

Pairings: Implied pre-existent Vash/Wolfwood

Rating: K+

Genre: Curtain/Romance

Warnings: Fluff, my attempt at comedy.

Disclaimer: It's a fanfiction, being submitted to a fanfiction site.

Archiving: Yes, please, just ask first.

Feedback: Yes, please, and constructive criticism is welcomed.

Author's Note: My attempt at dialogue-only, comedy writing. This took up only a page. I'd like to continue this, with little vignettes of life together for Vash, Wolfwood, and co.

* * *

><p>"Seriously, that's just awful."<p>

"C'mon, you're just sayin' that." Pout.

"No, really. It's like somethin' outta my grandparents' scrapbook."

"I've seen your grandparents' scrapbooks—they're cute."

"That's not the point, Vash."

"The point is, is that you don't like the house."

"Yes."

"Too cheerful?"

"Yep."

"Well, Wolfwood, I'm sure you can make it dingy in no time."

"Shaddup, Spiky."

"Wolfwood, you wound me!"

Silence. Then—

"_Sorry_."

"...Same here, Wolfwood." A moment later. "Shall we go in?"

"Sure." _Beat_. "S'really yellow."

"Yep."

"That why you like it?"

"Pretty much. S'like sunflowers. All 'round the house."

"...'Sun, sun, sun, here it comes!'"

"'_Dun-dun-dun-dah-dah-dah_.'"

"Well, we gonna go in or not?"

"Yes, let's."

"It's really small, Vash."

"Good thing it's only us, then."

"_Meow_."

"Oh—and one cat."

"What? Vash, c'mon, we _can't keep 'im_—help me get 'im offa my foot—shoo, shoo!"

"Aw, but he's so cute, n' tiny, n' black."

"Purrow?" _Nuzzle. _

"Lookit thaaat, Wolfwood—he likes ya!"

"I don' care if he wants to _have kittens _with me—he needs to go _out_."

_Push. _

_Nuzzle._

_Nudge. _

_Purr._

"Ohfercryin'outloud!"

"C'mon, Wolfwood. We can keep him. ...Right?"

"Oh, don't _you_ start, givin' me those puppy-dog eyes ah yers."

"Fine, fine, I'll pick him u—_Oh_."

"What?" After a moment. "What is it, Vash?"

"...Who's a pretty li'l lady? You are! Yes you _are_! Meow!"

"Vash..."

"We'll call you Lady Black Cat, yes we will!"

"I take it we're keeping him, er... _her_, as it is."

"Wolfwood! Help me find a camera! We need to take a photo of the family!"

* * *

><p>Author's Note: So, yea, or nay? What do you think? Oh, also: "Lady Black Cat" is the rough English translation of "Kuroneko-sama", the name of the small black cat that shows up every so often in <em>Trigun<em>.


	2. Closets

Title: Closets

Part: Two in a series of vignettes.

Author: September's Nobara

Fandom: Trigun

Characters: Meryl, Millie, Wolfwood, Vash.

Pairings: Pre-femmeslash Millie/Meryl (if you want to see it that way), established Wolfwood/Vash.

Rating: K+ to Teen

Genre: Romance, Comedy.

Warnings: General silliness, bad writing

Disclaimer: It's a fanfiction, being submitted to a fanfiction site.

Archiving: Yes, please, just ask first.

Feedback: Yes, please, and constructive criticism is welcome.

Author's Note: Ahh, the old double meaning ploy, and height-play. So, yeah... procrastinating on studying for finals (when most of this was written, anyway). Why am I revisiting this fandom—especially with such sweet fluffy offerings? 'Cause I need the fluff in all this stress. I'm sure y'all could, too.

* * *

><p>"Meryl, Millie! Welcome to our home!" Vash says as he opens the door to the sparse house.<p>

"Thank you for the invitation, Vash. It was good to hear from you," Meryl says with a smile. Millie follows soon after, closing the door behind her.

"Thanks for coming, you two. Wolfwood's still in the kitchen getting things ready—"

"Hey, Spiky! could you or one of the girls grab the sifter from the pantry? Got my hands full in here!"

"I'll get it," Meryl replies as she slips off her shoes, setting them next to Millie's.

"I'll go with her," Millie remarks, quirking her lips upward. "She might not be able to reach," the taller girl whispers.

"Ah, right," Vash agrees.

"Don't forget the measuring cups!" Wolfwood calls.

"Aye aye, _mon capitan_!" Millie smiles. Turning on her heel, the taller woman takes off down the short hallway. "Meryl?"

"...Yes, Millie?" Meryl's voice guides Millie into the other room, across the hall from the bedroom. Entering what appears to be a small, spare room filled with boxes, Millie finds Meryl in the equally small closet. Having pushed the door ajar, the petite brunette has her hands on her hips and a frown on her face as she looks upward.

"Oh, there you are," Millie moves to stand next to the smaller woman.

"It's too high."

Millie looks up to the topmost shelf situated in the closet. The small sifter sits atop the tallest shelf, right next to the cat-themed measuring cups.

"Mm. It does look pretty high up, Meryl."

Meryl mumbles something, and Millie tilts her head.

"What was that?" Millie says with a smile.

Meryl sighs. "Nothing, Millie." Meryl drops at the waist, reaching her fingertips to her toes as much as she can. Straightening after a few moments, the brunette braces her left foot against the middle of the doorframe, and leans to reach it.

"Meryl?"

"Yes, Millie?"

"What'cha doin'?"

Meryl pauses for a moment, standing to face her friend.

"Stretching."

"Why?"

"So I don't pull anything reaching for the sifter up there," she points to the cylinder.

"Ah," Millie nods her head. "Meryl, you know, I could just get it for you—"

Before Meryl's able to answer, both women hear the boys calling down the hall, letting the girls know they'll be there to help soon.

"Really, Millie, it's fine—" The shorter lady backs up against the shelves in the closet, intent on reaching the sifter. "Don't worry, guys, it's okay!" she calls over Millie's shoulder.

"No, no, let me help—" Millie turns to allow Meryl space to get away from the shelves.

"Hey, ladies-!" Wolfwood calls, pushing open the door to the room. There is a thump and a sound of 'Ouch!' exclaimed, while Wolfwood only feels a vague bump as he opens the door. "Ladies?"

"D-down here..." comes from his right, and for a moment, Wolfwood is unsure where to look. "Hey, Wolfwood, _down here_!" Meryl—he assumes it's Meryl—starts hammering on the other side of the door to the pantry.

"Well, hello, there," Wolfwood peers out from behind the pantry door at the sight of Millie, head lodged in a large lower shelf while she straddles Meryl's lap. Meryl, red-faced through blushing or lack of air, is trying to push Millie out of the shelf.

"Oh, is that Wolfwood?" Millie's voice echoes around the encasement.

"Yes, Millie," the shorter woman replies.

"Wolfwood, guess what?" continues Millie.

"What?" Wolfwood asks with a hesitant tone.

"We got the sifter down," Meryl interrupts, resigned, "but—"

"It's right here, Meryl. Right in front of my face." Millie sounds much too enthusiastic for her current situation to either Meryl or Wolfwood.

"Wolfwood, what's wrong?" Vash comes into the room. "I found the measuring cups, though—they were in the back of the cupboard—"

"C'mon, Spikey; we're gonna need help," Wolfwood says.

* * *

><p>Secondary Author's Note: So, yeah... This isn't going to be a dialogue-only series, though in retrospect, that style is rather fun for me to write. Fair warning: the style may show up every-so-often. Thank you to Mattie... while I cannot directly let you know that I appreciate your review, I hope this thank you reaches you :).<p>

Celesma, you've given me ideas for at least a good two or three of these here things :).


	3. Flashback

Title: Flashback

Part: Three in a series of vignettes

Author: September's Nobara

Fandom: Trigun

Characters: the usual core suspects!

Pairings: Subtle Meryl/Millie, Pre-Vash/Wolfwood

Rating: Teen

Genre: Drama, Romance, you get the idea. The attempt at humor reigns as supreme as ever.

Warnings: The ol' one-two dreaded High School AU!

Disclaimer: I would write five-thousand words, and I would write five-thousand more, just to see VashxWolfwood go in canon lore! Oh, wait, what was that? You wanted a _dis_claimer, you say? Er, sorry. Can't help but proclaim the fangirling, here.

Archiving: Yeah, sure, go ahead. Just ask first, is all.

Feedback: Would make me a happy writer, indeed.

Author's Note: I couldn't help it. It's like a hazing ritual, or something, for a fanfiction writer to go through the whole "Hey, _I _went to high school for a spell! Lessie, here... how'd my fave characters deal in a socially demanding, academically stressful environment?" (_proceeds to smack and/or flail away at a keyboard, is rushed offstage by a bear_).

* * *

><p><em>Health Class<em>.

The words stare up at me like a morning erection. Not going anywhere, but at least with the arousal, I can—_usually_—ignore or will it away enough to carry out a morning routine. The words are so... _clean_, too. Clinical, almost, even though they're supposed to be evocative of shiny happy people running around with water bottles and exercise equipment—

_Shiny with sweat, happy to be with you_—

Woops, no. Cannot go down _that_ route, now, can we? I distract myself by checking out the seating chart projected up onto the screen via the doc. cam. _Okay, so... right in the front row! Is our teacher _trying _to embarrass me or what? Besides, 'health class' is school code for Sex Education, anyway!_ I pass by Meryl and Millie, who wave to me with their free hands, the ones closest to each other linked by little fingers. Sitting down, I realize my seat partner is already flipping through the syllabus lying out on the desks. Pushing my own collection of as-of-yet unmet expectations away, I rest my head against my folded arms on the desk. I peek out at my seatmate. His dark sunglasses are perching on his head, while the leather jacket is taking up residence in his chair.

"Jeeze, don't look so thrilled, will ya?"

I look up to the guy next to me, and take in the messy, but still somehow organized groupings of papers. A cough of surprise escapes from my mouth when I realize he's got a club application... and it's just the first week back. His _class nametag_ is already in production, for crying out loud. _Nicholas D. _Something-or-other; he's not done yet: _Nicholas_ has paused in his showing off to play "Poke the Sophomore" apparently. A frown decorates my face.

"I know this class seems awkward, but, hey," the guy says to me, in what sounds suspiciously like a jovial, conspiratorial tone, "at least it's not requirin' a practical." The statement is followed by a snort of laughter. His words ring in my ears before sinking in.

_Not... requiring... a... practical..._

I blush, thinking that maybe, just maybe, this won't be as awkward as I first figured it could be.

It isn't until later, during roll call, that I learn Nicholas's last name. I also learn, right after that he's seventeen, one year older than I am, and the teacher's assistant.

* * *

><p>Secondary Author's Note: Well, huh. Here we go with the High School Alternate Universe. Fear not for a second continuity within the already-au story: this could be seen as a flashback of sorts, maybe as to how Vash and Wolfwood met?

-"Rushed offstage by a bear" is a stage direction from Shakespeare (or later editors of Shakespeare's work), I believe.

-The "shiny happy people" line is a rather irreverent nod to the song of the same name by R.E.M., without intended name-related irony.

-"Doc. cam" is short for "document camera". It's an updated, two-piece, glorified over-head projector.

-"Poke the Sophomore" is a reference to the phrase "Poke the Bear", something I learned by reading Taiki Matsuki's and Ori's _Digimon _fanfiction (specifically, _My Brother_).


	4. Perch

Title: Perch

Part: Four in a series of vignettes

Author: September's Nobara

Fandom: _Trigun_

Characters: Meryl, Millie, Vash, Wolfwood

Pairings: Vash/Wolfwood, implied Meryl/Millie

Rating: K+, Teen

Genre: Humor

Warnings: Dialogue-only (this time with no "scene directions").

Disclaimer: It's a fanfiction, being submitted to a fanfiction site

Archiving: Yes, please, just ask first.

Feedback: Yes, please, and constructive criticism is welcome.

Author's Note: What happens when the visual humor of _Frasier_ is mixed with the characters of _Trigun_? A little somethin' like this, I suppose.

* * *

><p>"Vash?"<p>

"Yes, Meryl?"

"What's the deal with the bird on Nick's head?"

"Well, y'see, we—"

"_Ahem_."

"Okay, Nick... fine. It's _my _fault that there've been animals around the house. They're just so cute, and need love—"

"Vash, _I _need love."

"I love on you."

"Not lately, you don't."

"Aww, Meryl, Nick misses Vash."

"Yes, Millie, I know."

"_Chirp!_"

"Lady Black Cat, get down from there! Stop bothering Hester!"

"See, this is what I _mean_, Vash!"

"Millie, grab that cat! Before she knocks over the—"

"Sorry, Meryl. At least it was just water in the glass... and it landed on carpet!"

"C'mon Hester, fly to Vash... well, thanks a lot, Hester... nice to know you prefer Nick to me..."

"_Coo_."

"Will somebody _please_ get this bird offa my head?"

"You know, Mark and Karen _did say_ they wanted a pet. A bird, even!"

"_Thank you, Millie_."

"You're welcome, everyone! I'll just give them a call right now..."

"All right, who wants to help clean up? I'm sure enough feathers are here to stuff a couch cushion."

* * *

><p>Secondary Author's Note: Is this easily understood, or is the dialogue too cluttered to be comprehensible? "Hester" is the name of the bird. One more (accidental, I promise) homage to <em>Frasier<em>.


	5. Denatured

Title: Denatured

Part: Five in a series of vignettes

Author: September's Nobara

Fandom: Trigun

Characters: Vash, Wolfwood, quick mention of Meryl and Millie

Pairings: Vash/Wolfwood, Meryl&Millie (friendship) or Meryl/Millie (romantic relationship)

Rating: T, T+

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Poetic and long metaphorical talk of alcohol, mention of PTSD and Trigger Words. Short, quick, and to the point.

Disclaimer: It's a fanfiction, being submitted to a fanfiction site.

Archiving: Yes, just please ask first.

Feedback: Yes, please, and constructive criticism is welcome, as well.

Author's Note: Huh, what do we have _here_? A kind of sad story? I always promised myself I'd never, ever write something _sad_. Sheesh. Where'd this come from, anyway?

I wrote this alongside of a Harry Potter parody song (kind of like wizard rock), and listening to mostly upbeat music, e.g., Train's "Hey Soul Sister". This story is not meant to be offensive or derisive, just a hypothetical observation on Vash. Think along the lines of the drinking character from _The Little Prince_ ("Why do you drink?" "To forget that I'm ashamed." "Ashamed of what?" "Of drinking.").

* * *

><p>I DO <span>NOT<span> ADVOCATE ALCOHOLISM. I DO NOT ADVOCATE ALCOHOLISM.

* * *

><p>Most alcohol, by nature, burns. He'd tried many kinds in his life, to burn indelible memories off himself. Still, like a Post-Traumatic-Stress Disorder sufferer's trigger words on an otherwise calm day, they haven't yet left him. So, the next time (and there usually will be a next time) in a stumbling, eventual manner, he tries to light an even larger fire in his entire body. It's almost always when everyone's at a party, or just out after work (he's just gathering tinder or kindling at that point, though). Or sometimes when they're having sleep-overs with the girls, 'cause hey, they all get lonely, he won't spark anything but the literal fire pit outside for s'mores.<p>

Sometimes, sometimes, Wolfwood catches him before the fire even starts inside Vash. He doesn't burn those times, but Wolfwood's kisses, nevertheless, always warm him from head to toe.

* * *

><p>I DO <span>NOT<span> ADVOCATE ALCOHOLISM. I DO NOT ADVOCATE ALCOHOLISM.

* * *

><p>Secondary Author's Note: "Trigger", in this sense, refers to words, images, or sounds "that [initiate] a process" (Dictionary dot com). In this case, that process is a reaction to those words, images, or sounds that causes panic andor anxiety attacks, or a number of reactions. "Trigger Warning" lets someone know that the following text/video/etc. may contain something that would cause affected individuals to react in such a way (e.g., "Trigger Warning for ableist language, heterocentric language", etc.). It's considered a polite thing to do for your readers to make a note of the possibility that a certain topic may be a Trigger for them.


	6. Time

Title: Time

Part: six in a series

Author: September's Nobara

Fandom: _Trigun_

Characters: The usual suspects

Pairings: Slight mention of Vash/Wolfwood, etc.

Rating: K

Genre: Comedy.

Warnings: The perils of children's programming and inability to sleep.

Disclaimer: I own nothing whatsoever.

Archiving: Yes please, just ask first.

Feedback: Yes, please. Constructive criticism is very, very welcome.

Author's Note: My sleep cycle is awful. I somewhat agree with Vash, here: yes, language is very bizarre, at times!

* * *

><p><em>There is nothing romantic about not being able to sleep,<em> Vash decides at eleven-fifty at night. Next to him, Wolfwood sleeps, hair disheveled and taking up more of the bed than he really ought to. _He sounds like a purring kitten,_ the blonde thinks, listening to the light snores coming from the other person. Vash turns to his right side and shuts his eyes. _Sleep, that would be pleasant. _

_Did I remember to shut the water off at work? _

_ Are all the lights off in the house?_

_ I wonder what would happen if salmon was marinated in white wine, and put on a grill? Was that sentence even grammatically correct? Should I have said "was", or "were" marinated? Ah, la langue est trés bizarre! _

Sighing, he sits up. _Well. Time for a glass of water._

Meandering into the kitchen, Vash grabs a tumbler from a cabinet above the sink, thanking the foresight to put in a few night-lights around the kitchen. Ice, then water, fill the glass. Sipping at the water, Vash regards the blank television. _Hm. Wonder what's on?_

* * *

><p>"Hey, Vash."<p>

"Hey."

"Just comin' in to get some water," Wolfwood says, yawning. Vash watches as the man goes through the process of glass, ice, and water. Wandering over next to Vash's seat on the couch, Wolfwood first looks at the television, then at the blonde. "What'cha watchin'?" he asks, taking a gulp of water. "Looks all... watercolor-y."

Vash nods. "It's called _Little Bear_."

Wolfwood blinks, a confused frown on his face. An eyebrow is raised. "Isn't that a kid's show?"

"Yes." Vash pats the cushion next to him. "Wanna watch it with me?"

"Aren't you gonna come back to bed?"

"Aren't you going to sit next to me?" Vash gestures again to the cushion.

"Well... fine."

The second episode of the night is half-way through when Lady Black Cat pokes her head in from the bedroom. "Meow," she says, observing the two men almost asleep on the couch.

"C'mon, kitty," Wolfwood murmurs, "have a seat." the man pats the unoccupied part of the couch. After a few sips of water from her tray, Lady Black Cat complies, taking up the entire cushion for the rest of the night.

* * *

><p>"Y'know, I think Mitzi's kind of a troll," Wolfwood says the next morning.<p>

"Really?" Vash responds, looking at Wolfwood in the mirror. "I've always wondered where she's from." Both men yawn at seven-forty in the morning, on the dot.

"I think the show takes place in the 1800s."

"Yeah, probably," Vash begins brushing his teeth. "That still doesn't answer my question, though."

"After work?"

"After work."

* * *

><p>Secondary Author's Note: <em>Little Bear <em>was a huge part of my childhood. It does still stand the test of time for me. The "was" or "were" grammar question is one that's been on my mind off and on for a while. Special thanks to my Significant Other for helping out with my nit-picky questions.


End file.
